


Aaron Livesy Likes Bottoming

by TheonSugden



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Bottom Aaron, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, prompts, top robert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumblr prompt - Aaron thinks about his gradual acceptance, and enjoyment, of bottoming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aaron Livesy Likes Bottoming

**Author's Note:**

> not really a prompt but aaron riding rob? in general power bottom aaron f ucking himself on his own terms

The first time Aaron had caught himself staring at Steven Gerrard’s perfect arse, he’d brushed it off, tried to tell himself to think more about Heidi Klum in one of those cheesy bra adverts that never stopped airing.

A few years later, after he’d finally started to face up to being gay without wanting to crawl under the bed and hide from a flaming pink monster, those tight shorts and thick hairy thighs sent his hand down his track bottoms with open admiration. A one-hand band, Paddy would probably say…although the thought of Paddy wasn’t the best way to start a wank.

Any time he’d feel guilty or ashamed at the slick palm wrapping around his fat cock, he’d just think:

_At least you’re not taking it up the arse._

Now he was…and he loved every fucking minute of it.

Robert wasn’t the first…it was Jackson who’d talked him through it, like one of those action movies where Keanu or Bruce figures out what to do with the right wire. Jackson had been so patient, so sweet, so tender, yet through the calmness, fully in control. He’d never expected anything of Aaron, he’d even given Aaron the “we don’t have to…” speech, but telling Aaron they didn’t have to do something was like telling him he was a coward. He still remembered snapping at Jackson to get him started…still remembered how cold the lube on Jackson’s fingers was, long fingers, one, two, three, making their way inside him.

There was still a part of Aaron that had felt awkward, but he’d pushed it down, just focused on the pleasure Jackson worked so hard to make him feel. He still remembered the first time he’d taken Jackson all the way, the soppy, crooked grin on Jackson’s face, the pride in his voice as he’d whispered, fucked out and lost in lust, “You did it. You did it.” 

The only time he’d ever made Jackson happy.

After everything with Jackson, he’d felt guilty for ages at the thought of letting another man touch him that way. The times he’d tried it in France, even with Ed, he’d never felt much of anything, other than endless buildup and momentary release from fingers, sometimes a tongue, a cock, maybe a dildo every once in a while. It had gotten him off, the way “anal stimulation,” like one of the nerdier Finn-type fellas had called it, always got him off, but not much more than that. 

Robert…Robert should’ve been just another collection of body parts. Lush lips completed by a talented tongue. Lean arms when Aaron lifted the jumper over his head, strong arms when Robert held him in place to watch him break with each new, sharper thrust. A cock that somehow felt too long and never long enough. Perfectly manicured fingers that slipped inside him like the last piece of a puzzle, whispers and teases leaving him begging for more, or brutally efficient hammers and tongs ruthlessly pushing him to his release.

He should have been at Robert’s mercy. That’s how it had started all those months that seemed like years ago. Robert shoving him against the car that first day had gotten to him for reasons he hadn’t wanted to face. Robert had driven off, leaving him alone in the truck, humiliated and rock hard - harder than he’d ever been in his life. He’d had a wank right there and then, in the middle of the day, in the middle of a callout. He’d shut his eyes and just fucking  _lost it_ , lost himself, for the first time in years and years.

Now, when he rode Robert, like he was doing right now, the taller man squeezing his hips enough to leave bruises on bruises, hair glued to his eyes, gawping and gasping for breath, sucking Aaron’s fingers like raindrops in a desert, he wasn’t lost. 

He was found.

He’d needed Robert so much in those early days that he hadn’t realized just how much Robert needed him. That Robert could break for him. That they could break each other, if someone hadn’t already broken both of them a long time ago.

Aaron needed to get fucked. That first time with Jackson, he’d known it, before, during and after. He’d hated himself so much, been so scared of how good it felt - the pain and the pleasure all separate and all together - and he’d taken it out on Jackson. He’d blamed Jackson for helping him face up to what made him feel good, because he was just supposed to accept being gay, put up with being gay, like something the doctor writes you a note for. 

Robert made Aaron feel terrible some days, on more days than not, but in bed, or a barn, or the backseat of a car, he made Aaron feel good, feel alive. He made Aaron see that sex was amazing, bloody fantastic, a feast. It wasn’t enough for Aaron, nothing was enough for Aaron but everything of Robert, but if he couldn’t have that, if all he could have was lies and secrets and death and nightmares, then the sex was everything. He’d tried to be a good son, tried to do what was right and proper for the first time in his life, but he’d still cried and bled himself to sleep. He needed this. If that made him wrong or bad, he couldn’t care anymore - if he was going to burn, at least he’d be the one lighting the match.

He twisted Robert’s large nipples in his hands, turning them slowly, thighs slapping against thighs with each tweak or pinch. He watched Robert thrash around, dirty blonde hair against the pristine white pillow, thinking to himself with more pride than he’d ever say out loud, _I did this._

He slid his hands inside Robert’s soaked palms now, rough in soft, leaning forward to share a sloppy kiss. Robert’s eyes were wild as his hips and pelvis pushed further and further upwards, slamming into his backside to the point where Aaron wondered if the bed would break.

He still didn’t know how blokes called themselves “bottoms,” like some type of old sitcom character, but if he couldn’t come up with anything else, he’d take it. He took it plenty. He also gave it, but lately he’d needed to get fucked, needed the way it made his thoughts clear, reminded him why he had to keep going. 

Even now, with Robert pounding into him like there was no tomorrow, something in him worried about being weak or pathetic. He just had to fight it, the way he’d always fought so many things good and bad for him. Taking it up the ass wasn’t about being weak, or strong. It was just about…being him.

He squeezed his arse against the base of Robert’s cock, pre-come filling the hand wrapped around his fat length as he saw and heard and felt Robert shudder at the sensation.

” _You come when I say…for me…all over me_ …” he rasped, carefully getting off Robert’s lap, ignoring the whimper of protest as he pulled the condom off and replaced his tight heat with a quick, blunt series of wanking motions.

Robert said nothing, tried not to even look him in the eye, until Aaron held his chin, staring at him, both pairs of eyes locked in place as Robert spilled his seed into Aaron’s soft-tight-sandpaper grip.

He spread the white cream against Robert’s stomach and chest, the hot stickiness filling one hand as he finished himself off with the other, mixing his load with Robert’s on the smooth skin. In some sad way it made him feel pleased that when Robert left the hotel behind yet again for his “normal” life, he’d remember how hard Aaron had worked to have them be together in every sense of the word.

His breathing was so heavy, or Robert’s was - he couldn’t tell them apart, not sure they were apart at this point, not when it mattered, like today. 

Robert yanked him onto the free side of the bed, before Aaron could protest, or tell him he’d better go find Chrissie. 

He tried not to buckle at the soft lips against his forehead, or the soft voice telling him to go to sleep, rest while he could, while they both could.

Robert snaked a hand around him, resting on his bottom, slipping a finger inside the worn entrance for a moment to wring a tired groan out of Aaron.

“You can’t get enough,” Robert teased, trying and failing to fight a yawn.

“Don’t worry - soon as it’s enough I’ll let you know,” Aaron replied, drowsily, burying his stubble in Robert’s salty neck. 

The twitching around Robert’s finger before Aaron drifted off told both men it wouldn’t be enough anytime soon.


End file.
